The Squatter
by Howrude
Summary: Foyle is in America, Milner is working far away and Sam is preparing to marry Adam. James Devereux moves into Foyle's house. But he isn't alone. Who is the mute girl who only eats Marmalade and why is she so afraid to go outside? yes, I'm mad, don't ask
1. Chapter 1

A woman in a dirty, torn dress and grubby coat, with no shoes stands in an alleyway watching a grey-haired man locking the door to his house and walking down a small flight of stairs, carrying a suitcase. He is greeted by a young woman with blonde, curly hair and a tall young man.

"Morning Sir! Have you got everything?" asks the young woman cheerily.

"I hope so." He pauses and looks at them. They are both smiling inanely, and she is hugging the young man's arm.

"So, when's the wedding?"

"How did you know, Sir?"

"I've had my suspicions. Congratulations both of you!" he says, shaking the young man's hand. He lets go and is enthusiastically hugged by the woman.

"You will be back in time, won't you sir?" she says returning to the arm of her fiancé.

"If I can make it" answers the man, looking up for a moment. He sees the slightly sad look on the woman's face and adds

"I'll try my best, Sam. I'd love to be there. But, I can't promise anything."

"Ok, Sir, that's good enough for me" says the woman, smiling again.

"Shall I put your luggage in the boot, Mr Foyle?" asks Adam.

"Yes please" smiles Mr Foyle, handing him the case. In a few minutes they are all in the car and have driven away. The woman in the alley continues to watch the house. Hours later, and a church bell has just sounded midnight. She crosses the road and walks up the steps. She pulls a couple of hair pins out of her hair and begins to pick the lock. An hour later she opens the door carefully, steps inside, and closes it warily. She searches around downstairs, listening vigilantly. No one is in. She heads to the kitchen, and looks in the pantry. The only food left is preservatives; jams and marmalades, unopened. The woman licks her lips and takes one out. She then slowly goes through the drawers until she finds a small teaspoon. She sits herself down at the kitchen table and slowly eats half the pot. Then she seals it up and puts it back in the pantry. She cleans the spoon under the tap and dries it, replacing it in the drawer. Then she tiptoes upstairs. She locates a bedroom which looks quite plain and barren, which she decides is the spare room. She goes over to the wardrobe and carefully opens it. She pauses in fear as a loud creaking noise is emitted. After a few seconds she continues. There are no clothes inside, and in the bottom is a pile of blankets. She unhooks a wire hanger and takes her coat off. Once she has hung her coat on the hanger, she removes the piles of blankets. She quickly closes the wardrobe and waits for a second. No sound can be heard from anywhere. She then lays the blankets out under the bed, and curls up on them. The bed clothes hanging over the edge of the bed obscure her completely, and she begins to sleep.

A week later a key can be heard in the door. Two young men with black hair step inside. The first, with heavily gelled hair is followed by another carrying a suitcase. He says

"It's nice to meet you, Mr Foyle..."

"Call me Andrew" says the first, smiling.

"I'm James Devereux."

"How do you know my father?" asks Andrew

"He saved my neck" replies James

"What were you accused of? Hang on, yes, I remember it was in the papers. I didn't realise my father was involved. I thought he was retired by then" says Andrew

"He was" answers James.

"I wonder what made him take on the case, he couldn't wait to get out of the police" says Andrew, almost to himself. James thinks for a moment then replies.

"He knew my mother. They met during the Great War, she was his nurse. I understand that they were good friends "

"Ah I see. I'll show you around, here we have..."

Upstairs the woman hears them talking. She is under the bed, frozen in fear. She listens intently as she hears them leaving the lounge and head into the kitchen.

"And here is the kitchen. Cutlery in this draw, cups in this cupboard, oven, coal, pantry..." his voice trails off.

"Is everything alright?" asks James. Andrew steps out of the pantry carrying three empty pots of marmalade.

"This is very odd. Father never leaves empty jars around."

"Maybe he just forgot with the preparations for America."

"Yes, but he doesn't like marmalade. He only has it in case of visitors, or me. Why would he eat three jars of it? And it's still wet, someone's cleaned this pot recently."

"You think someone's broken in?"

Andrew pauses. "No, that's ridiculous. The house is perfectly fine, the door wasn't forced, nothing's been stolen. The marmalade must have gone off and he's washed out the pots." James looks at the pots unconvinced, but he doesn't argue.

"I'll show you upstairs then. I hope you don't mind me asking, but why are you staying here? It's just that I understood you're quite wealthy..."

"I couldn't stand to stay in the old house anymore, so many painful memories. And Mr Foyle was generous enough to offer his house, so I took him up on it."

"Must be a bit smaller than you're used to." Smiles Andrew. James merely smiles back.

"That is Father's room, that is my old room, and this is the guest room." He opens the door.

"Hmm, there seems to be a slight smell in here, I'll open the window...that's better. There are spare blankets in the wardr..." he opens the wardrobe, and is greeted by the empty floor and the tatty coat. He picks it up by the hanger, examining it.

"That is not my father's" he says, holding it up to the light.

"That's a woman's coat" points out James.

"Could be Sam's I suppose...no, that's ridiculous, she'd never let a coat get into that state. It would be cleaned and mended."

"Whose Sam?" asks James.

"Samantha Stuart. She's...she was my father's driver, they're still good friends. She stayed here for a while when her flat got bombed. I'm just going to go and look for those blankets." He says throwing the coat onto the bed and walking out of the room. James looks around the room, out of the window. He glances towards the bed and then Andrew re-enters.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't find those blank...Are you alright?" asks Andrew.

"I think there's someone in here" mouths James. He points under the bed, and they both creep round it, one on each side. They both duck down at the same time and pull the covers up.


	2. Chapter 2

James looked straight into a pair of frightened blue eyes in a dirty face. For a moment he stared back into them, waiting for a reaction, but the eyes simply stared back. Finally he asked

"Who are you?" No response came, then the eyes disappeared. James heard a scuffling and Andrew Foyle's voice saying

"Come here! Get out!" Suddenly the young woman rolled out of James' side. She jumped to her feet and, wide eyed, looked between James and Andrew. She was shabbily dressed, with no shoes and her hair was messy and dirty, mainly with dust from under the bed. She backed up against the wardrobe, James watching her, and moving to block her exit. Her eyes continued to glance at the door.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" asked James again. She bolted for the door, but James's outstretched arm caught her straight across her stomach. She struggled, but James clamped his arms around her stomach and no matter how she twisted or struggled, or stomped on his feet, she couldn't free herself.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Andrew walking up so that he was less than an inch from her face.

The woman started clawing at James' arms with her nails, but Andrew grabbed her wrists and held them down, whilst James wrapped his arms around hers as well, pinioning them to her side.

"I asked you what you were doing here!" he demanded. She struggled and looked away, but said nothing.

"Can you hold her? Right, I'll go and fetch the police" said Andrew running for the door. As the door closed Andrew's footsteps could be heard on the stairs. For a few moments James was left holding the woman, who continued to struggle. Twice she swung her head back in an attempt to head butt him but missed. Her hands writhed trying to wrench free, and then James felt something wet drop onto his arm. Struggling to see her face without letting her go, he caught a glimpse of a face contorted with pain. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, but she was silent. No sobs, no cries, only a faint hint of heavy breathing. Now she had stopped struggling, so James released his grip a little, as he heard Andrew coming upstairs again.

"The police are on their way. Dear God man what did you do to her?" cried Andrew seeing her face.

"I'm not sure, she just started crying, but she isn't saying anything"

Andrew closed the door and stood in front of it, whilst James carefully let her go. As he did she sank to the floor, crying silently. On her arms two deep red marks showed where James had held her. James looked at them.

"I didn't realise I was holding her that tightly, she didn't say anything."

"She still isn't. Probably thinks if she keeps mum then she can get out of it."

"There's not talking and there's not making any noise at all. She must have been in a lot of pain."

"Just a trick probably." The door bell rang and Andrew motioned to James to guard the door whilst he let the policemen in. Just as James reached the door the woman looked up at the window. In an instant she was on her feet and had one foot on the window sill. James leapt across the room and grabbed her, trying to bring her back from the window. Just as James thought he had lost grip, two police constables barged into the room. They took a few moments to constrain her and as James watched be became more and more convinced that something was wrong. It wasn't that this woman didn't want to be arrested, it was that she was mortally terrified of it. She fought the policemen as if she were fighting for her life, but in the end she was too weak for them and they dragged her away, literally. Despite the struggle, the blood and tears she still didn't make a sound.

"I'm really sorry about all that" said Andrew, after they'd left.

"Of course you can have my room and I'll have father's."

"Thank you, you're very kind. Do you think she'll be alright?"

"What?" asked Andrew turning round.

"The girl" said James looking at him.

"She's a burglar and a thief. She'll be tried and brought to justice" said Andrew obviously.

"Odd kind of burglar. All she stole was three pots of marmalade" stated James.

"True" admitted Andrew.

"I mean there is a lot more of worth in this house" said James.

"And why was she sleeping under the bed. Why not on it? Why not steal some clothes?" added Andrew, beginning to see James' point.

"I doubt your father's clothes would fit her" surmised James.

"But he's got some of mother's hanging around somewhere. Apart from the kitchen and the spare room it doesn't look like she's touched anything else" said Andrew sitting down on the bed.

"And the way she fought with the constables, it was frightening" said James.

"You think she's in trouble" said Andrew looking at James.

"Big trouble probably" said James looking at the battered coat lying on the bed.

"Fine, we'll go to the police station in the morning and drop the charges. Then you see what you can get out of her and I'll try and contact father. He might have some idea of what to do."

The next morning at the station Andrew dropped the charges and headed off to send a telegram to his father, whilst James was shown through to the cell where the girl was being kept. The officer leading him nodded to him to follow.

"Has the girl said anything?" asked James.

"Said? No, nothing. Climbed up to the windows like an animal and tried pulling at 'em when we first put her in, but when she found that was no good, she gave up and sulked in the corner till the food came. Then she snatched it and wolfed it down using her hands. Made a real mess, ignored the spoon, didn't even say thank you Just rudeness really."

"Or hunger maybe?"

"If you say so. Animal like her don't belong in a police station. Asylum probably." Said the officer unlocking the cell carefully and allowing James in. The woman sat in the corner still, hugging her knees so tightly that her knuckles showed white.

"Hello?" said James tentatively.

"Hello, do you remember me? It's James, you were in my house yesterday. Well not my house, the house I'm staying in. I'm here to collect you, you see we dropped the charges. And Andrew..."

James cut off as the woman's head lifted to reveal extremely red eyes. In a moment she was standing and in the next she was heading straight for him.


End file.
